“That was impressive.”

I flash a proud grin up at Dax. “You doubted me, didn’t you?”

His expression is a bit bashful, and it still amazes me how a man this handsome can be so sweet. Then again, Becket Jones seems pretty great, too. “Sorry.”

I wave off his apology as we head to the small parking lot. “Trust me, it happens.”

“Do you have plans tonight?”

My eyes widen in shock. Is he asking me out?

My surprise must be evident because Dax laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m not asking you out on a date. I just wondered if”—he lifts one shoulder in a half shrug—“you had plans with Becket.”

We draw to a stop near my bike. “No, I haven’t really talked to him the past few days.”

Okay, so I backed off a bit from Becket. Our contact has consisted mainly of text messages somehow including the designated Word of the Day. It pains me to admit that I…miss talking to him. Actually hearing his voice. I’ve begun to look forward to his text messages and our easy banter.

He’s the one guy—the only guy, really—who incites a unique nervousness within me.

“Heard about your aversion to all things attention-related.” Dax jars me from my inner thoughts. My eyes meet his, and he appears impressed.

He shouldn’t be. He wouldn’t be if he knew about my past.

“I’m just not a fan of being the center of attention. I’d prefer to keep things low-key.”

He nods. “That’s cool.” There’s a slight pause. “But in case you’re wondering if I’ve got all kinds of sordid info on my buddy—”

“I’m not.”

“He’s pretty lame. No substance abuse problems, no gambling, no anger issues. Doesn’t kick puppies or snarl at small children.”

I give him serious side-eye because this is more information than I’d expect him to part with freely.

He flattens his palm over his chest in dramatic fashion. “It pains me to say this, but Becket Jones is damn near perfect.”

“He paid you to say this, didn’t he?”

Dax rears back as if I’ve severely offended him. “He would never stoop to such a level!”

I merely stare at him. And wait.

Ten seconds is all it takes.

“He asked me to put in a good word.” When I part my lips to speak, he holds up a finger and rushes on. “But everything I said was true.”

“How much did it cost him?”

He averts his gaze and mutters, “Two months’ worth of organic protein shake mix.”

Gah. Pro-athletes.

Then he grins and pats me on the back. “I think you’re pretty damn cool, Miss Hayes. But if my boy doesn’t play his cards right, just remember there’s a cocoa-skinned hottie waiting in the wings.”

At my skeptical look, he laughs. “Too soon?”

I can’t help but let out a laugh of my own. “Good night, Mr. Kendrick.”

“Night, Miss Hayes.”

* * *

Instead of sending a text message, I decide to be brave. The urge to hear Becket’s voice is far too compelling once I’m home from work.

Of course, I use our Word of the Day in my attempt to break the ice.

“If you have a moment, I thought we could have a bit of a tête-à-tête.”

His easy chuckle is like music to my ears. “I’d love to have a heart-to-heart chat with you.”

And just like that, things are easy and comfortable between us once again. I fill him in on my earlier conversation with Dax.

“I can’t believe that traitor.” Becket’s remark bears no heat, merely amusement.

“Maybe next time you’ll up the ante and throw in some fresh produce or something.”

“Ha-ha. Poke fun all you want, but that protein shake mix doesn’t come cheap.”

We laugh softly, and I realize how much I’ve missed this. Missed talking to him. On the ride home, I contemplated this situation with Becket.

He’s a gorgeous guy—no doubt about it—but he’s also funny and kind, and he makes me laugh. It really can’t hurt to spend time with him, especially since I know it’ll eventually lead to the bedroom. He’s admitted he finds me attractive, so I know that’s an option.

“Hey.” He startles me, dragging me from my inner thoughts. “I’m planning to grab some frozen yogurt after dinner tomorrow. Want to join me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I tease playfully.

“Oh, there’s just one thing.” His odd tone sets me at unease. “You’re good with sharing me with other women, right?”

What kind of question is that?

I can’t help but frown in confusion. “Uh, yes. Of course.” My answer comes out cautiously.

“Perfect.”

We make plans to meet at six thirty at the place only a mile from my place. But when we say goodbye, my mind is still reeling with his question. You’re good with sharing me with other women, right?

Even worse, it’s swirling with what was my initial unspoken answer.

No.

* * *

I arrive at the frozen yogurt place early and wait inside to escape the lingering humidity. Busying myself by checking emails on my phone, I nearly miss Becket when he enters. When I glance up and catch sight of him, my jaw drops.

Then I burst out laughing because he totally had me going.

“Sharing you with other women, huh?”

He merely offers me that show-stopping smile of his. It’s immediately clear why it’s garnered him ads galore because he still possesses a unique quality about him. Aside from his good looks, something deeper shines through. The evidence is in his eyes and his smile; an inherent kindness that’s undeniable.

Becket has a baby girl who can’t be much more than eighteen months old in the soft carrier strapped to his back. One of his hands is clutched by a girl who appears to be about six or seven years old. When he tosses a glance back at the baby and offers an affectionate smile, something stirs within me. An odd sort of yearning.

My laughing eyes collide with his. I wave a hand, gesturing to the little one in the carrier. “I love how you accessorize.”

He grins. “It makes me look slimmer, right?” He turns to the side as if modeling. “What do you think?”

“Totally,” I agree with a laugh.

“Ladies, this is Miss Ivy.” He shifts to allow the baby snuggling his back to see me. “This is Emilia.” He peers down at the young girl at his side. “And this is Violet.”

“Hi there,” I greet the girls. Emilia offers me a shy smile, nuzzling Becket’s cotton T-shirt with her cheek.

Violet says a quick, “Hi,” before she looks up at Becket with a concerned frown.

“Uncle Becket? What do you think about adding Heath bar pieces to my yogurt?”

He feigns a look of deep thought. “I’ll be honest. I’m personally not a huge fan of stuff that sticks in my teeth.”

Violet nods seriously. “Good point. I’ll stick with sprinkles.”

Becket’s gaze meets mine. “Ready to do this?”

“Absolutely.”

Moments later, we’re all seated in a booth and getting the girls situated. I watch with amazement as Becket flawlessly withdraws Emilia from the carrier and places her on the inside of the booth. She automatically rests on her knees and folds her hands on the table.

I glance over at Becket, and he winks.

“Emilia likes to lead us in grace before we eat.” Then he bows his head and links his fingers together, Violet following suit.

I’m so surprised that I’m scrambling to follow suit as soon as Emilia begins to sing a little rhyme of blessing. Once she finishes and we all chorus Amen, each of us reaches for our spoons and digs in.

I’ve just taken my first spoonful of frozen yogurt when Violet casually tosses out, “So tell me about yourself, Miss Ivy.”